Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Samoa and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Rhythim Is Rhythim to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Chocolate Watch Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Icehouse,
X-Ray Spex,
Harry Pussy,
Lakeside,
The Gap Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fela Kuti,
Eric B and Rakim,
London Community Gospel Choir,
DNA,
Sixth Finger,
John Coltrane,
Freddie Wadling,
Aaron Thompson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Altered Images,
Henry Cow,
Sarah Menescal,
The Gun Club,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bluetip,
Fugazi,
Glambeats Corp.,
The United States of America,
Smog,
Arab on Radar,
Whodini,
T.S.O.L.,
Cal Tjader,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Donny Hathaway,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gabor Szabo,
Minutemen,
The Monks,
Qualms,
Amon Düül II,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kayak,
Blake Baxter,
Hashim,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Vladislav Delay,
The Real Kids,
Los Fastidios,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scion,
Warsaw,
LL Cool J,
Eve St. Jones,
Ten City,
Colin Newman,
Ronan,
Adolescents,
Theoretical Girls,
The Toasters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scott Walker,
Big Daddy Kane,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.